New Life in New York
by M.Parker
Summary: Vert's father dies and he's sent to live with an uncle he didn't even knew exsisted in New York. Exactly what kind of new life lays ahead for him? R
1. A new beginning

Hey, I'm M.Parker and this is my first shot at an AcceleRacers fanfiction I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I'm only posting this once, I do not own Hot Wheels...although I did when I was little. Kick Ass.

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He had decided to leave once again. Exactly why was unknown to any of the team members of Teku. Vert Wheeler had once again taken off with one of their cars and was once again back at his home by the beach. Climbing out of the car, he gazed fondly at it; it was one of his favorites. The body was sleek and lowered to the ground, 17 inch wheels with chrome hubcaps gleamed in the sun's rays, windows tinted an exotic deep purple. The color of the car was a plain white with sky blue designs starting at the back like fire and moving foreword towards the hood, all the while fading from sight. On the bonnet of the car laid his team's logo in the same purple as the windows.

The inside of the car was a completely different story. The outside may give off the appearance of innocence, but inside lays black covered seats outlined in dark navy blue. Glowing gages of electric blue illuminated softly while the dashboard was sleek metal so clean Vert could see his own reflection. The roof was also done with this same metal while large speakers were placed in the backseat, the Teku trademark logo placed proudly upon them. Right between the passenger and driver's seat was the shift handle, a silver metal pole with a seemingly glowing handle in the shape of a joystick. Chrome gas and break pedals proved to be a bit of a distraction when driving, especially when the sun hit them at the right angle, blinding him slightly, but the now 17 year old driver quickly learned to get used to it.

Slamming the car door shut, he twirled the keys around on his finger, bright blue eyes scanning the area that was so familiar to him. But being back on it now, he felt alienated. Last time he had come here was because he felt he couldn't drive well enough for his team. That's when he had that talk with his father that set his head straight. He WAS a good driver. In fact, he was the best! Nothing could change that! He was just suffering from winning-withdrawal. Yeah! That's it! He was back in the game now, and better then ever, he was only back here because he wanted to give his other team members a chance!

And that's where Vert caught himself lying. He only wished it were true. He was in denial, only back because of one solemn reason...

His father had been killed by the enemy. And here he was, back at the house he grew up in, back to the place where it all began. Looking at the house now he partly wished he had been around more, especially when his mother first died, at the time he had been a rebelling teenager, angry at the world. His father was the same way, Vert knew that he made sure that he was called out more then he should be; being at this house was too much to handle.

And standing there now, just...looking at it...he couldn't help but feel the same way. In fact, he wished right now he was facing danger of one of the realms rather then be here to pack up his things. He'd was to be living with an uncle he didn't even know exist, moving to good old New York City to start over. Yeah, he hated to admit that part of him was glad just to get away from this place.

As he went around the house, gathering his belongings, he tried not to look at anything else, nothing but his own things. The evening sun was beginning to take shape in the sky, its watery appearance making the house that was normally bright and welcoming a sanctuary. His eyes caught sight of a picture frame that was placed on his desk side table. It was his family. His mom...his dad...and a 10 year old Vert between them, grinning widely at his first mini AV Dirt Bike he had gotten for his birthday. He was covered in mud from head to toe except for the clean area on his face where his helmet had covered. His mother had a look of worriment and fondness on her face while his father could have never looked prouder. That photo was the last time they had been together as a family; the last time he had seen his father not in uniform...

A sudden anger came over the teenager, and in a flurry he had knocked the picture onto the ground with the back of his hand, watching the glass shatter across the ground. He kicked the photo under his bed before giving the table a good kick, as if blaming it for his loss of parents. And there he was, alone in a house full of memories, parentless...

He had never felt so alone in his whole life.

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"Flight 299 heading for New York is now boarding. Will all passengers please head for gate 3A."

Tossing the magazine he had been reading, Vert stood up to his feet, a single duffel bag laid at his feet as he picked it up and slung the handle over his shoulder. In his hand he held his boarding pass and some I.D. Blue eyes cold as they stared straight ahead at what was in front of him, the path towards his new home. This wasn't some vacation for a lame family reunion...he wasn't going back to his old life. He never would again. Once again he found a strange comfort in that fact.

He was wearing a black t-shirt with his white racing jacket over top, the Teku symbol in the corner with a black solid line running down the arm. On his hands he wore black fingerless gloves and black pants with white shoes. He hadn't meant to be so color coordinated, it just happened. Taking his seat on the plane (thankfully the window seat) he stared out the tiny oval window and took his last look at the place he had called his home all his life. Not able to look at it, he brought the plastic cover down, blocking his view.

The flight was uneventful. Some woman with a baby sat next to him and he had to endure the torture of listening to it scream the whole way to New York. He poked at the dinner meal, highly suspicious of the fact that it was possibly still alive. As the woman once again excused herself to take her child to the bathroom, Vert caught a glimpse of the teenager that sat in the seats across from his side of the plane. It was a girl and she seemed to be reading some racing magazine. He thought that it was probably the reason why she caught his attention, but taking a sweeping glance at her, he thought otherwise.

Her skin was a fair brown tone, looking endlessly sun kissed, yet also held the hint that it was natural, her slender body was dressed in a dark blue sleeveless tank that hugged her body and some dark blue jeans that covered her crossed legs. On her feet she wore almost the same style of black boots that both the Teku and Metal Maniac's wore. Slung over her arm rest was a black racing jacket with a white solid line going down the arm. But what really drove attention to her was her hair. It had to be so blonde, that it was practically white. It was braided into perhaps thousands of tiny braids and pulled back into a high ponytail, only a few strands of her hair were left alone as bangs to frame the sides of her face. Dark blue orbs were calmly reading the magazine and Vert took notice as to all the men that passed her by heading for the bathrooms couldn't help but stare at her before nearly running into someone.

As if feeling his staring gaze, her head lifted up and turned towards him, taking his look straight on calmly. Blinking, the 17 year old quickly looked away, but not soon enough to catch a smirk appearing on her pale lips before she as well returned to her reading material. He felt his cheeks heating up as the woman came back and sat down next to him again, and to his relief, the baby was also asleep.

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I know it's short, only the opening chapter. What do you think? Horrible? Should I quit while I'm ahead? Continue on? What? Lemme know!

M.Parker.


	2. Welcome to New York

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

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Upon arrival at the airport did Vert realize that this unknown uncle of his was well on in his age; being around his mid-forties. He wore a suit that looked to be perhaps two sizes too big for him and had the same color of brown hair his mother did. His eyes were a stern brown and he held a sign with his name scrawled across it in messy writing.

While walking up to him, he saw the girl on the plane walk past him, a single duffel bag slung over her shoulder as well, she didn't seem to see him, or recognize him as she walked on past, meeting up with a group of people, a few sporting the racing gear as well.

"You Vert Wheeler?" his uncle spoke suddenly, making the blonde teenager blink.

"Huh?"

"Oh, my mistake, guess not."

It took the 17 year old a couple of seconds to register what just happened before quickly catching up to the man. "Wait, sorry, yes I am."

He looked the kid up and down, almost as if approving of him. "Sister always said you got your dad's looks. I'm your uncle William, just call me Will. Come on then."

They had managed to wind their way out of the fairly busy airport, Vert every once in a while spotting the white-haired vixen (as he liked to call her in his mind that is) with her friends and/or family making their way out the same exit. The two headed out into the parking lot and stopped short at a beat up Volks Wagon. Vert couldn't hide his look of disgust.

"What's the matter? Think I'm made of money like your parents were?" Will sniped, obviously not giving Vert any comfort during his tough time. He opened the driver's door with some difficulty and leaned over to unlock the passenger's side for the teen.

Throwing his bags into the back seat, he got in, having to give the door a pretty hard slam before it locked into place, that's when he discovered that the seatbelt didn't work and that he was sitting on dried up gum.

"So...are you married at all?" Vert asked, trying to strike up a conversation. He had this sinking notion that his 'beloved Uncle Will' wasn't all that happy being stuck with him. Well, if he was going to live with him in New York City, might as well try to make the best of it.

"No, and I don't plan on it either" came his gruff reply.

Okay...obviously he wasn't one for family...

A disturbing silence filled the car as they rode their way along the freeway, Vert couldn't help but get a sudden twitch of annoyance at the snail pace speed they were going compared to the nitrox fuel he used with the Teku car's. At the thought of this, he also wondered exactly what was going to happen with the car he left back at the airport in his home town. A sickening vision of it being towed away to some dirty garage where it would be pulled apart by hicks filled his mind.

"What do you do for a living?" he asked, wanting to ease his mind of these nightmares.

"I sell used cars."

At this Vert's attention perked up with interest. "Oh, really, does that pay well?"

"It pays plenty to cover my rent if that's what you're asking."

"So you would consider yourself a salesman then?" the blonde asked, trying to avoid another snide remark about how his family had more money then him, which, taking a look around in the car he was in, was a lot.

"No, I consider myself the manager at a piece of crap company."

"Uh...congrats?"

More silence invaded the car, and Vert found it very hot all of a sudden. "Mind if I roll down the window for some air?"

Will laughed heartedly at this, "I'd like to see you damn well try!"

Wondering exactly what that was about, Vert grasped the handle to manually roll down the window, only to find it stuck. Deciding to give it all little more force, the handle snapped off right in his hands.

"That's coming out of your pocket." Will stated sternly. Gulping, he simply placed the handle into his pocket. "Heh, I'll try to pay for it as soon as possible."

"Which reminds me, you work yet?"

"Well I haven't exactly had any real experience or anything-"

"Do you know anything about cars?"

Only like the back of my hand, Vert thought, yet didn't voice this. "Yeah, I suppose I do."

"Good, you can work in our garage then, one of our mechanics quit on us yesterday and we need a replacement."

"How much does it pay?"

"Around 5 bucks an hour, seeing how you're a minor and all."

"Alright, and how many hour's a day will I be working?"

"Depends, you still in school?"

"Yeah."

At this his uncle cursed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Damn, now I gotta pay for that as well. I'm guessing you'll be working from 3-8 pm then."

"That's only 30 bucks a day" Vert voiced out.

"Well I ain't made of money kid! Now I know you probably got 100 bucks every week for allowance or whatever when your folks were around, but this is the real world!"

A deep loathing for Will burned within the 17 year old, he found it rather fitting if he had 'accidentally' smashed his head into the dashboard, but fought back the urge to act this out. For the rest of the ride through the non-stop traffic jams he yammered on and on about how the real world works and how you have to make sacrifices in order to survive...

"...I mean look at how much money I'm giving up just to give you a roof over your head!" he finished while pulling into an underground parking garage beneath a dirty looking apartment building. Will jerked the car around a bit, causing Vert to nearly slam into the windshield a couple of times before he managed to fit the junk of scrap metal the vehicle was into a tight parking space. Giving the door a good kick with his heel, he managed to escape contraption and grabbed his things just as smoke emitted from underneath the hood. Will took no notice to this while heading for the elevator, fiddling around with his keys as he followed after him.

They entered the rather grubby elevator; it seemed everywhere he looked Vert could spot stains, dirt, garbage and even Durex wrappers littering the small space. A noise along the lines of "ugh!" escaped his lips as he noted some fast food joint wrapped was stuck to the bottom of his foot. Ignoring his nephew's remark, Will exited the elevator and turned to head down a narrow hallway, where every step they took it sounded like the whole place would come down right there and then.

"Here we are, home sweet home." Will said, jabbing his key into the lock on a door numbered 325, the 5 missing but he could see the dirt outline of it. Swinging the door open, Vert stepped into his new home.

The walls were a disgusting color of brown and looked almost rotten, the floor was made up of tile that was cracked and in some places it looked taken out all together, leaving the concrete to show through. The ceiling had disgusting yellow stains on it along with some cracks and the air smelled of rotten cabbage. It was small, two steps into it and Vert found himself in the small rectangle of a kitchen. The fridge hummed loudly and some cupboard hanged off the hinges, he even caught sight of roaches in the corner nibbling at some crumbs.

The living room consisted of an ugly flowered pattern couch with stains littered all over it and a empty bag of chips (which Will quickly grabbed and brushed the crumbs off the cushions before throwing the bag into a corner) and a smashed in TV set. Off to the right was a door that obviously led to Will's bedroom.

"You'll be sleeping on the couch, it pulls out into a bed, I think I got some blankets in the closet, bathroom is just to your left and help yourself to anything you find in the fridge."

While he said this he had walked into his room, from where Vert could see by the couch was an empty room except for the mattress on the floor, blankets in a tangled mess and a chair piled with clothes. "I think the closet is pretty much empty, so you can store your clothes and stuff in there." He added, coming out with just a pair of jeans and a casual t-shirt on now.

"Now I have some friends coming on over and we're going to be playing poker and whatnot, so you okay with trying to find your way around the City for a couple of hours?"

If I can get out of here, yes, he thought but simply nodded, dropping his bag onto the couch as Will handed him a fairly rusted key. "This is the key to the apartment, don't loose it because it's the only extra one I've got. Now run along."

Shoving the key into his pocket, Vert headed out the door and managed to find the main lobby, walking out onto the busy streets of New York City. His new home.

The sound of club music pounded in his ears and he watched keenly with his blue eyes as many teenagers walked inside with their friends, out to have a good time. Straightening his shoulders somewhat, he tucked his hands into his pockets, deciding what could it hurt to head on over there and check it out?

As he approached the front door, a brute of a man stopped him in his tracks. "Can I see some I.D?"

Thinking quickly, Vert had half the mind just to give up right then and there and head somewhere else, that's when a brunette girl latched onto his arm, practically bombarding him with her weight. "He's with me sugar." She claimed, giving the man a wink. Vert could smell a mix of alcohol and cigarette smoke off of her breath, this made his head spin slightly.

He seemed to recognize this girl, seeing how he nodded and moved aside for them to pass through. Looking over to the girl, Vert forced a grin, "Thanks for getting me inside." He said.

The girl laughed, pulling him closer to herself, "No problem honey, now you just owe me a dance!"

"Oh...uh...I don't-"

"KAYLA! Wait up!" and with that she was gone, leaving a confused Vert to stare at the spot she was ten seconds ago. Confused, yet relieved, he made his way through the crowd and up to the bar to get himself a drink.

He wasn't one for drinking, but that's because he had parents back then that forbade him of doing such things. But hey, he was a free teen now wasn't he? Now he can do whatever the hell he wants! As if Will can force him to do anything...he wasn't his father now was he?

"I'll have a beer." He ordered, watching the bartender nod and come back, placing a bottle before him.

"5 bucks." He said, watching him dig through his pockets and come up with the cash, handing him a crumpled bill. Turning his back on the bar, Vert took a long gulp of the amber liquid, almost coughing at the bitter taste. And that's when he saw her...

The white-haired vixen.

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And here's the second chapter to my 'oh so lovely' story! Tell me what you think! I'm working at making them longer!

M.Parker.


	3. Yes, I'm drunk

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Stuck right in the middle of a large group was the same girl from the plane and the airport. It was like everywhere he looked she was there. Not that his eyes didn't mind this. Oh no, it was almost a relief to see something familiar. She was dancing with two other guys, hips moving to the beat of the music, eyes closed and just letting the rhythm take her over completely. Arms were raised high above her head, hands creating movements in the air.

One guy behind her reached his arms around and pulled her body up close to his, fingers roaming at their own cost. Vert, so transfixed by her, saw her pale lips turn up into a smirk from the corners at this. Her right hand reaching back and getting her fingers tangled into his hair, pulling his head down towards her neck.

Her body, in one quick motion slid down her dancing partner's and completely disappeared from sight for a few moments. Then up she came, this time facing him and placed her hands on his chest, pushing him away from her, going back to just dancing solo on her own.

Raising the bottle up to his lips, Vert's blue eyes didn't dare look away. It was as if she had him in a trance without realizing what exactly she was doing. Every move she made was flawless; every smirk she tossed about was heart-stopping, and the color of her hair...

Shaking his head roughly, he blinked out of his state to notice that he had accidentally spilled beer down the front of his shirt. Cursing, he placed the bottle down on the counter, only to have it whisked away by the bartender. He grabbed a napkin and attempted to clean up the wet spot as the same girl from behind came up beside him.

"Like what you see?" she yelled over the music into his ear.

The teen jumped at the sudden voice and turned to look at her, confused by this question. She wasn't talking about...herself was she? She must have noticed the quizzical look on his face because she let out a breathy laugh. "Not me silly..." her head nodded towards the dance floor. "I see you eyeing up Allie there."

"Allie?" he repeated, the name just sort of rolling around on his tongue and spilled off his lips. He liked that.

"Allie Highst. I take it you're new to town. Everyone knows her..."

"Well I just got here today." He admitted sheepishly. It was then that he took a better look at this girl who managed to get him into the club at the first place. She was pretty, rich brown hair that went down to her shoulders, layered all over the place, and honey-hazel eyes that looked distant. That could possibly from the alcohol intake she had over the night. But how was he to know?

She wore what looked like an emerald green corset that hugged her body in the right places. With that, she also had black pants over her legs and some black strap shoes on her feet. If he took a closer look, he saw that her toenails were painted with smiley faces on them, a very odd combo. Trying to not look at the toenails that were smiling up at him, he saw that she had stuck out her hand. Her nails were painted with hearts on them.

"I'm Chantelle."

Taking it, Vert shook her hand briefly. "Vert."

"Well Vert…care to dance?"

He looked alarmed at this, "Oh...I don't dance."

"Yeah, yeah, they all say that. I got you in; you might as well repay me." She said, waving her hand off in a dismissive fashion.

Before he had a chance to argue (or at least say he'd buy her a drink instead), her hand had latched on the front of his shirt (right over the wet spot too) and was dragging him out to the dance floor. It was at that moment Vert felt like he was back in 8th grade when he had done his speech in the front of the class and looked up to see all eyes were on him. As soon as he made his way to the middle of the floor with Chantelle dragging him, everyone sort of stopped to stare.

"I really can't dance." He told her loudly into her ear so she would hear. She simply rolled her eyes and made motions with her hand as if swatting flies away.

"Nonsense, everyone can dance...you just might dance badly is all!"

"That REALLY doesn't help."

"Yeah, my therapist says I need to have a more positive attitude..."

Great, now he was hanging out with a psycho lunatic.

"Look, you just need some guidelines. Like so..." placing her hands on his shoulders, Chantelle began to move side to side at first, making Vert do the same. After a few seconds, she nodded her head and grinned at him. Sadly enough, Vert's attention was back to the smiling toenails, trying hard to follow what she was doing as they seemed to pick up some odd pattern.

"Head up." She advised, lifting his chin up with her hand. "No body wants their partner to be staring at their feet."

He really couldn't help himself, before Vert had the chance to think it through; his lips already blurted it out, "Even if they're smiling at you?"

For a split second, Vert thought he had offended her. He was obviously wrong when Chantelle broke out into laughter only moments laughter, her grip on his shoulders tightening slightly to hold herself up.

"I knew you were cute, but I didn't think you would be funny!"

Vert's cheeks colored at the compliment. Or was it? Hell, he didn't even know anymore. "Uhm, thanks, I think..."

She shook her head, brown hair being tossed about lazily, "Never mind that. Now...if you want Allie's attention-"

"Who said that I wanted her attention?"

"Oh please, you were practically a starving street dog just watching her dance-"

"Was not."

"Was too. Don't interrupt me. I hate that. Now, to get her attention, you need to REALLY stand out. She doesn't like the whole, sits on the side-lines and merely watches. You gotta be in the game, understand?"

"Exactly what game are we talking about here?"

"The dating game! It's pretty easy though, all I gotta do is introduce her to you, and the rest is up to you mi amigo."

"Question; how do you know so much about her anyways?"

Chantelle snorted, not the most attractive thing in the whole world, "Doy...I'm pretty much her best friend."

"...right. So why do you want me to make an impression on her so badly?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed in a quizzical manner.

"Well Vert...because I like you, and I think you can set her head straight on a few things."

"I've only known you for 10 minutes!"

"10 minutes...10 years, what's the different I ask you? No, don't answer that." She raised a hand to his face just as he opened his mouth to reply. Obeying, he clenched his jaw. "Look, she just needs something...good in her life."

"So she's a angst teen or something?"

Chantelle laughed again as if he just said the most hilarious thing in the world, which, obviously to her, it was. "Are you kidding? She's got it made! People would kill to be her! Literally!"

"Okay...so where do I fit in?"

Chantelle shrugged loosely, leading him away from the dance floor to a more quieter section of the club. "Well...she just has this nasty bad habit for one-night stands, you know what I mean?"

At his questioning look, she rolled her eyes again, "She can't commit! She lacks in that department, F- all the way."

"Alright, alright, I understand." He held up his hands in defence when she seemed to look a bit impatient. "I just don't get why you're telling ME this. Why not some close guy friend she has?"

"Because she's already screwed around with them?"

"And what makes you think the same thing won't happen to me?"

"Because! You're different! You've got…potential!"

"...are you drunk?"

"Of course!"

"Right...just what I thought. C'mon, I'm walking you home."

At this, her eyes widened, "No, no, no! Listen to me! This is not a drunk rambling! I know what I'm talking about here!" She grabbed the front of his shirt and pushed him up against the wall, the smell of vodka and beer coming from her breath, "I know that YOU can get to her! Don't ask how! It's just a gut feeling!"

She moved away from him with a sigh, "Obviously I'm not going to be able to pursue you now. Just you wait. What school are you going to?"

"Uh...don't know yet."

"Well, when you do..." and out came a sharpie pen from who knows where, and she yanked the arm of his jacket back, scrawling her number down onto his skin, "Call me. Promise?"

"Call you for what?"

"Just call me, remind me who you are."

"Alright, alright fine." He agreed, tugging his sleeve back down.

"Good." And away the sharpie went. "Now, about you walking me home..."

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Hey! I'm back! And I can't seem to write long chapters. So sorry...it just all kinda comes like this. So maybe in the future some chapters will be longer then others. Who knows? This was a pretty useless chapter now that I think about it...but at least Vert knows someone now! Yay!

M.Parker.


	4. Beer Bomb and other Chaos

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my laptop.

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Vert didn't exactly know what time he had gotten back to Will's shit of an apartment. All he knew was that he was dead tired, 10 seconds in the 'house' if you would call it, he stubbed his toe on the table, had an all out battle with the couch that was 'supposed' to pull out into a bed, and discovered that these 'blankets and pillows' in the closet turned out to be a sandbag and a bed sheet with holes in it. Exactly what his Uncle needed a sand bag was a question Vert didn't even dare ask himself.

All he knew was that his shirt smelled of beer, hair of cigarette and pot smoke and on his arm was a girl's number. A very insane and drunk girl who wanted him to call tomorrow, a glance at the clock on the VCR that he was surprised even worked told him it was already tomorrow. Alright, so he would call her...today.

Flopping onto the couch, the blonde teen let out a small groan as a spring dug into his back. And the covering on the couch arm was so worn down; he might as well have used wood as a pillow. Hell knows it would be more comfortable than this.

Oh yeah...this was the life... He couldn't POSSIBLY think of a better way to end the night...

Of course, Vert was COMPLETELY wrong by this information...

Just as he closed his eyes did a flash of light blast through the window just behind the broken TV. He thought it would go away, but he was wrong. It was a strobe light, and it was on full blast. All of a sudden hard rock music pounded through the wall, shaking everything that wasn't bolted down, and in this house, that was the bag of chips on the floor and an aged cigarette butt. Cursing loudly, Vert clambered onto his feet, heading over to the window while shielding his eyes from the light to see exactly what the hell was going on. Looking out, he saw that in the apartment across from him looked to be what seemed like a mosh pit going on.

He was about to walk away, maybe sleep in the bathtub, when a sudden voice shouted, "BEER BOMB!" and a beer bottle came smashing out of their window, and crashing into the one Vert stood in front of, thus shattering it, and spraying the teen in glass. Luckily he had covered his eyes just in time and turned his back, only getting his jacket ripped up. Stumbling away from the window, Vert had half the mind to get the bottle and chuck it back over, yet left it as he headed for the bathroom. Right now, the tub looked damn well tempting to him.

Kicking the grungy looking bathroom door open, Vert groaned loudly. The whole floor was covered in mouse traps. Mouse traps in a bathroom. Somehow those two things just didn't mix. Stepping around them carefully, he pulled back the shower curtain to reveal a very dirty looking bathtub, with rat poison in it. The 17 year old didn't even bother containing his curses. Yanking the shower curtain closed, he headed out of the bathroom, slammed the door shut and headed for the front door.

Opening it, and pulling the doorknob off, he stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him, dropping the doorknob to the ground. Sighing with relief at the amount of volume the door blocked out of the rock music, Vert sank to his knees and leaned up against the wall. Right now, in this position, this was heaven. He almost didn't hear the sound of a couple fighting down the hall, or that dog barking, the sound of more glass being broken. Oh no, at that moment, he fell into a very deep, yet dreamless sleep. And it all went well until about two hours later, when he got a rude awakening.

The smell was disgusting. It smelled like something had DIED, then rolled around in crap and deep fried. Yes, that's EXACTLY what it smelled like. And there was something wet on his face, heavy breathing in his ear. In his state of being more asleep then awake, his mind immediately jumped to the idea that mutant rat's were going to take him hostage and make him their immortal slave.

Groaning, Vert slowly opened his eyes, coming face to face with warm brown ones. Jumping a bit, the back of his head slammed against the wall behind him, a sharp pain shooting up to his head. It was a dog in his lap, licking him all over the face.

"Get off me!" Vert growled, shoving the dog away, feeling like he could gag from the smell and feel of dog slobber on his face. Using the sleeve of his jacket, he wiped his face as Will opened the door with some difficulty since there was no doorknob anymore, and looked down to the blonde boy.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" he asked, a cold, stern look in his eyes.

Baffled, Vert starred up to him, "Well uh..."

"I wake up; find a broken window, beer bottle on the ground, and the doorknob off the front door. Now I know this isn't 'Living in La Vida Loca'..."

"You got that right." Vert muttered under his breath silently.

"But it's still my apartment, and you gotta treat it with respect."

"Hold on," he got up to his feet, nearly stepping on the dog's paw, sending it cowering away, "You think I did all of that?"

"Well who else could cause such damage like that! If you're going to be an angst kid, I want to know up front, right now." Will demanded, poking the palm of his own hand with his other hand's index finger, before pointing it at Vert, "Because I won't put up with it. I know your folks are gone, and I'm pretty much all you got, which means you're under my care now. And I don't want some angst teen in my house, in my city, screwing it up!"

"Look, I didn't do it!" Vert stated, clenching his fists at the mention of his parents, wanting to do nothing but just punch 'dear Uncle Will's' lights out. "I came home, and there was a party next door, with a strobe light, and they threw a beer bottle through the window. And the doorknob came off when I came out here to sleep because no one in HELL can sleep in that house!"

"You expect me to believe that! There was no party last night!"

"Are you kidding me? It was so damn loud, I'm surprised anybody slept!"

"Are you calling me a liar?" Will snarled, taking a threatening step closer, causing Vert to blink out of his rage to take a step back just in case.

"No! I'm just saying..."

"Just get in there and get ready. Need to get you registered at the school today." He ordered gruffly, standing back to let him get in.

Memories of last night's attempt to sleep in the tub came back to Vert as he headed inside, and the stench of rat poison reached his senses as Will handed him his duffel bag and closed the door on his way out. The rat traps were gone, and there was in fact...and clean towel waiting for him on the counter. Sighing, he just went his way and got ready.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The drive towards his new school was a silent one. Apparently he was an 'angst teen' and didn't deserve getting talked to. Fine by him, all he was thinking about was if he was going to sleep out in the hall again tonight. Or maybe he can just sleep in the park. As they passed one by, he looked at the benches and how welcoming they seemed to him.

The school was pretty good looking. Tall, clean looking, and it was called Henry Melkrin Secondary School, with the American flag flying proud and high in the air right in the front. Students of what looked like every grade pulled up in fancy car's and trunks, making Vert feel completely embarrassed to be arriving in this junk of a heap that was sadly called a car.

Somehow finding the visitor parking, the two made their way towards the front of the school, Vert busy looking around and taking in his surroundings. Today he was dressed in a white t-shirt and his sky blue racing jacket, he wore dark blue pants and his white shoes once again, this time sporting white fingerless gloves.

The school walls were covered in previous tales of victory and celebration, the sound of the students cheerful and also typical of any school. Almost getting distracted by watching everyone go about their ways, Will had to grasp his shoulder and steer him into the office.

The office, much like the hallways, was buzzing with chatter and the phone ringing. People moved back and forth, almost in a dancing sort of way, winding around each other and avoiding any possible crashes. A fairly stout woman bustled foreword after seeing them, brushing back a strand of gray hair and gave them a flustered smile, "Hi, I'm Mrs. Karen, can I help you?"

"Uh yeah, we need to register him." Will answered, nodding his head in Vert's direction. Mrs. Karen rested her warm gaze on Vert and nodded, "Oh, okay, well, if you'll just follow me...what grade are you in Vert?" she asked, making her way towards the back of the office, the two following carefully.

"Uh, grade 12." The 17 year old answered.

"Oh, okay." A clipboard suddenly appeared out of nowhere it seemed, and was placed in William's hands. "If I can just get your dad-"

"He's not my dad." Vert answered rather quickly, the uncle and nephew looking embarrassed by the statement.

"Oh, I'm sorry...if I can just get your...guardian to fill this out, we can sort out your class schedule."

Nodding, the two entered an office where she closed the door, blocking out the sound. Letting out a small sigh of relief, Mrs. Karen took a seat behind her desk and turned on her computer, reaching into one of her drawers and producing a list, handing it to Vert.

"Okay...all of our class's are listed there with just a short bio of what would be going on in the class, you'll have to take English, obviously, and if I can just ask what your average was last year in English?"

"B." Vert answered shortly.

"Okay, great." And with that she turned to her computer, typing in something at a fast pace. Vert almost felt a bit of pity for the woman, she seemed so rushed and busy and was taking time out of her schedule just to deal with them. Of course, this was probably part of her job anyways...

Looking down to the list, the first thing Vert looked for was a Mechanic's program. Which is found and had a secret sort of grin to himself. Keeping that page on tab, he then looked at all the other classes there was.

"Did you take a language last year Vert?" Mrs. Karen asked suddenly, causing him to look up.

"Uh, yeah, I took Spanish."

"Okay, and do you plan on taking it again?"

Vert thought about this, and then finally agreed to it. Really he had no idea what he wanted to for all his classes, Spanish wasn't so bad last year, in fact he was pretty good at it. Returning to the list, he continued to search.

Metal work sounded fairly interesting. The 17 year old boy liked working with his hands. Alright, so far he had four classes to fill up a semester, seeing how on the list it noted that all the classes are an hour and a half long. So, he had English, Spanish, Metal Work and of course, Mechanic's, now just four more to figure out.

He wasn't too bad at math, and P.E was always good.

Two more to go... He felt a bit rushed, seeing how the counselor or whatever she was; was so rushed as well.

Blue eyes roamed the list once again, yet nothing seemed to pop out at him. Pop culture? Sounds good to him. And one more...

Now looking, almost frantically, he also remembered something. The spare block! Nearly sighing with relief, he looked up to see Will finally hand over the clipboard with all the information needed on it, and finally all the attention was turned on him.

"So! Did you choose your courses?"

He decided to stick with a simple nod, and listed them off to her as she typed them into the computer. "Alright, the Mechanic's course might be a bit full...but I'm sure we can squeeze you in there."

And a few minutes later, Vert got a freshly printed schedule handed to him, and thankfully, Mechanic's was in his first semester, along with Spanish, P.E and the spare. Thanking Mrs. Karen, the two left the school and got in the car.

"Alright, I'm giving you money so you can buy whatever supplies you need. And then at 4, I want you to head over to the garage so I can get you working."

"But, I don't know where it is." Vert pointed out.

Reaching across him, Will opened the glove compartment, and drew out a map, shoving it into the teen's hands, "It's on Johnson and King's way, called Arty's Garage. Figure it out." He said, coming to a stop in front of a mall. Turning off the engine, he dug out some crumpled bills and handed them to the blonde.

"Remember, 4 o'clock." Will repeated as Vert got out, then drove off as soon as he closed the car door behind him. Looking up to the mall, Vert sighed, and tugged back the sleeve of his jacket, Chantelle's number looking up at him.

Gazing around, he found a pay phone and headed over to it. He had a phone call to make.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Does it feel a bit rushed to you? I think it's just me. And I think it's longer, it says 6 pages on my Microsoft Word program. Anyways, sorry it took me so long to update this, I'm having one hell of a time with school...stressed beyond BELIEF. But! I write for you! Enjoy!

M.Parker.


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